Guilt
by dragonblast
Summary: Kaiba remembers something. - Alister/Kaiba. Oneshot.


There was tension in the Kaiba mansion.

This wasn't anything out of the ordinary, to be honest, but it had gone on for twelve days now, and Alister was getting sick of it. He'd asked Mokuba if there was a particularly upsetting business deal or something going on at work — at Kaiba Corp. — and Mokuba had denied that. Mokuba was usually honest, so he didn't think to second-guess that answer.

He would be willing to let it slide and let Kaiba continue snapping at servants, breaking furniture in distant parts of the house in a quiet rage early in the morning when he thought Alister was asleep, and staying away from home. Really. That was fine. The man needed his space.

But _twelve_ days? No. Kaiba had crossed a line, and he hadn't slept in their bedroom in at least that long. He hadn't even really touched Alister in more than a week, forget sleeping beside him.

So on the thirteenth morning, Alister caught Kaiba as he was leaving the house to go to work. His arms were crossed, he leaned on a wall, and his leg rested against it. For all intents and purposes — to a stranger — he would have looked casual.

Kaiba was not a stranger and he recognized this stance immediately, his steps slowing to a halt. Alister's head came up and their eyes met. Silently, he pointed towards the front door. Kaiba scowled and walked forwards. Alister came off the wall and stood in the path.

"You're eating breakfast with me."

"I'm going to be late for work if you keep me."

"You're the boss, no one cares. Get your ass back inside."

"You don't tell me what to do, Alister."

"And you don't ignore me for two weeks without any explanation!" Alister took a step forward. Kaiba's scowl deepened into a twisted shape of ugliness.

"Fine." He turned on his heel smartly and marched back inside as if it had been his own idea. He dropped his briefcase by the six-person breakfast table, a little ways away from his chair. Sitting smoothly, he brought his hands in front of his face in a seemingly calm steeple, blocking view of his mouth.

Alister sat across from him and munched on the cereal he'd poured earlier.

"Is this supposed to be revenge? I ignored you, so you ignore me? How petty of you. If you've made your point, I'll just—" Kaiba scooted his chair out, making as if to leave once more.

"No, Seto." Alister's tone was so calm, so blank, that Kaiba stopped. "This isn't revenge. This isn't even really about me. This is your fault."

"Excuse me?"

"I can deal with no contact. Not being touched. That's fine. I can cope. You're not very physical to start with, and that's fine."

"What are you—"

"_Shut up, __**Kaiba**_, and let me finish." Steepled hands came apart with one shake and rested on the table in a fake show of patience. Alister could see he was not doing well withholding an icy glare, or perhaps he wasn't trying.

"I can deal with you not speaking to me. There's other ways to communicate. You're not exactly a chatterbox, either. Until you are," he added, with a light hint of teasing. Kaiba didn't respond to it.

"However. I cannot deal with both. I am a human being, Seto, and I need communication; I need to be touched, even if it's brushing shoulders scrounging for food when we come home for dinner. I can live on that." He paused. "You have _deprived_ me of my basic needs."

Kaiba's right hand's fingers flexed once and retracted back to the open rest he had them placed in.

"Why are you ignoring me?"

The faucet had not been turned off completely. Kaiba wasn't sure if it was Mokuba's, or Alister's, or one of the servant's fault, but it was a pet-peeve. He listened to it drip twenty-four times before he answered.

"I've been avoiding you," he said, finally.

"And the difference is…?"

He was quiet, eyes on his hands. "Alister, I have near-perfect recall. I can remember verbatim what people say perfectly on an average of 94 percent. I know every smell, every sound, every word, every touch, every taste I have ever experienced. Some are easier, faster, to bring to mind than others. Before the orphanage… I don't remember so well. After that…" he fell quiet again, and was quiet and still for so long, Alister almost prodded him. But his head shook, once, and he raised his face to meet Alister's.

"I discovered recently I've been blocking some of it. Not anything huge, just small details. I had no idea."

"Oh?"

Kaiba nodded. He met Alister's eye, the look borderline of a challenge. "You studied me, right?"

Alister raised an eyebrow.

"Then you know I helped Gozaburo in his work. I made weapons for him. I designed them."

He gave a very small nod. Kaiba swallowed and turned to study the cabinets.

"I remembered something. Something I'd forgotten."

"Seto… I don't see how any of this is relevant to m—" Alister broke off, eyes going wide. No. _No._ **No!**

"I designed the very model of shell that killed your brother."

Alister's cereal bowl shattered on the ground. A few seconds later, he left the kitchen, stumbling.

Kaiba called in sick.


End file.
